Romancing the novice
by Daalny
Summary: Never to late for romance
1. Chapter 1

Patrick Turner like puzzles, especially solving them. However, at the moment he was at a loss on how to find the solution to his latest puzzle-his wife. Shelagh was a fine wife and was settling into married life well. There were no complaints yet Patrick felt that there was something missing. It was during clinic hours that he finally had some insight. He was smoking over the sink listening to the nurses converse as they set up the screens for the clinic. He smiled when he heard the Scottish brogue of his wife. "Did you enjoy the dance Cynthia?"

"Very much so, we're going again in a week." The petite nurse replied

Trixie's voice carried, "He's already given you flowers Cynthia, surely there will be something even more romantic next."

"I think flowers are romantic" Chummy chimed in.

"Chummy! We're talking romance! Love letters, walks hand in hand and you know..." Trixie trailed off.

The sound of chunky heels echoed and another voice was heard, "Is this Trixie's famous words on courtship?" Nurse Lee's voice demanded.

Days later Timothy needed help with a geography assignment. He knew they had an old atlas somewhere. On the middle shelf he found it and as he pulled it out a smaller book fell to the ground. Timothy eagerly took the atlas and scurried off to the kitchen table. Patrick knelt down and went to pick up the book only to be stopped by Shelagh.

"That's all right Patrick I'll take it." Shelagh's voice was higher than usual and her eyes were wide.

Nevertheless Patrick handed over the book and watched as his wife dashed off with it. Filing this piece of information away he went to help Timothy. The assignment was to make a map of South America. Timothy had the idea to use the colored origami sheets to distinguish the countries. Shelagh said she would fetch the scissors and glue while Patrick went off to retrieve the paper. Soon Shelagh was in charge of helping, as a Nun she was used art projects more so than Patrick. He stepped back and watched as Timothy's face lit up with delight as he traced shapes from the atlas under the guidance of Shelagh. He knew that yesterday's newspaper was in the bedroom perhaps it could be used as well? As he went to search for it he noticed one of the pillows laying haphazardly and he went to straighten it. Underneath the pillow was the book from the shelf. A quick look revealed it to be a romance novel and more detailed look revealed the name Franklin written in pencil on the inside cover. This was one of Trixie's books, Rubbish Novels as Sister Evangelina called them. He smirked at the thought of Shelagh reading it until he remembered her panic at him seeing it when it fell from the shelf.

Suddenly the last piece of the puzzle slid into place and Patrick knew what was missing. A few days later during morning report mail was delivered. Chummy had a letter from her Mother and Nurse Turner also received a letter. She recognized the penmanship, it was from her husband. At first she was puzzled as to why she would be receiving mail from him but brushed it aside. Surely it was for Nonnatus, perhaps an addendum to a patients record and he had merely addressed it to her so she would take care of it. As she walked with the other nurse she slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and hastily opened it. She laughed with Cynthia over a joke, her intent was to read the letter but a child's scream from the clinic had her shoving the letter in her pocket and racing towards the clinic doors.

The antenatal clinic was brimming as it always was. Nevertheless, patients were seen and the work was done. Around three, Sister Monica Joan announced tea had been made and biscuits procured. Nurses and Nuns alike sat, drank tea, and chatted about the days events. As she sat the paper in her pocket crinkled and she remembered her letter. She took it out and started to read.

_My dear love,_

_ I'm thinking of you as I write this wishing that this pen and paper was your body so I could touch it. Run my fingertips down your back, put my palm on your waist and trace the curve of your hip. This pen is cold and metallic, you are warm and alive. The paper is flat but your body has peaks and valleys and is always an adventure. I could and would never tire of exploring you. I need to feel your skin against mine, I love that feeling. _

She knew she was blushing and as much as she wanted to read the rest of the letter she knew she couldn't do it at the table. Once again the letter went into her pocket and she gulped her tea to hide her face. Later she went out into the garden to finish her letter.

_Having you wrapped around me, touching me everywhere is so pleasurable I think that sometimes I might die from it. Even more I crave the feeling of your heart racing in your chest as we make love. I can feel it through my chest and it makes me dizzy that I can make you feel that way. Tell me, do you think of it? What do you love? Do you know you always sigh in contentment when I kiss your neck and you inhale sharply when I nip your shoulder. There is always wonder in your eyes when we first make love and I'm awe that I am the one that you have chosen. I want to know all the things you like and please know I will do whatever you ask or want to try. If you don't want to speak out loud of your wants or desires write to me. _

_Love always,_

_ Patrick_

_****_

In the garden Shelagh suddenly understood what Trixie had been talking about. She also knew that she would need to purchase some good stationary.


	2. Chapter 2

Purchasing the stationary had been easy. There was a small shop on the corner. She had once bought a small journal for Sister Julienne there and knew they carried some fine paper goods. It was one of the shops that while a tad upscale for Poplar did very well. The owner was able to broker deals with larger, more elaborate shops. Some of the journals had blemishes on the cover so they were sold at a reduced price. Other objects were pristine yet a tad out of date. The shop also carried paper goods for children and the owner frequently bartered with community so if a child needed writing utensils or paper it was traded. At the moment money didn't matter Shelagh had in her hand a stationary set and money in her pocket to buy it. The envelopes were plain white yet the inside was lined with pink. The writing paper also had a pink hue to it, she like the color and Patrick had mumbled once that he liked it too. On impulse she purchased a new pen. She felt that if she was going to be writing intimate details it be done with fresh implements. Her new goods were carefully secured in a paper bag and she was on her way back to Nonnatus.

On the walk back there were so many thoughts in her head that she thought that putting them down on paper would be easy. However, when she sat down in the garden and picked up the pen her mind cleared of all thought. The dining hall was empty and she sat down and once again took out a sheet of pink paper. She was about to write the first letter when footsteps approached, this was not the place. Her feet took her to the chapel. Out of instinct she bowed her head. Instead of sitting close to the altar she took a seat near the back and prayed for guidance. It took a few days for her to pen a reply. It was in the kitchen of Nonnatus that all her thoughts coalesced and she found the words flowed easily.

She had not bought stamps, an oversight she would remedy later. Instead she placed the letter amongst his things hoping that it would surprise him. Patrick found the letter the next morning in his briefcase and read it during a break before his rounds.

_Patrick my love,_

_I have wants but I don't know what they are. For so long I have wanted_ _to_ be _wanted. It might sound cliche but as of now that is fulfilling to me. I know that you saw Trixie's book, she had offered to loan it to me before. She is a very generous woman. Once I found a book like that in the sitting room, I think she forgot it when she answered the phone. The cover had been lost and the spine was so cracked that I could not read the title. I read a few passages and found the material alluring and frightening. I put it back where I found it and casually mentioned to Trixie that it was in the sitting room. After we married I asked to borrow it I don't feel as much fright since we have made love and I can relate to the material yet I can't seem to answer your question about my wants for as of now I want what you give me. I love what we do. Truth be told, or in our case written, I rather enjoyed reading your letter. Imaging you at your desk in the Maternity Hospital with a pen in your hand writing to me about _us_ made me tingle._

_ Forever yours,_

_ Shelagh_

He found that her correspondence gave him new insight and while they were Husband and Wife this simple exchange of words seemed to be more intimate. He was learning the true Shelagh, for so long she was Sister Bernadette and now she was learning all over again that she was a woman. He thought back to the atlas project that Timothy had worked on. It was time his wife was mapped.


	3. Chapter 3

The Maternity Hospital was bustling with activity. Some mothers had been transferred by the midwives at Nonnatus so Dr. Turner knew a few of the faces. He dilligently checked each chart before speaking with the new mothers and mothers-to-be. During rounds everyone noticed that Dr. Turner was in a jovial mood. His face carried a small smile. In his briefcase there was another letter which he had already memorized yet he read over and over again.

_My lover,_

_I can't stop thinking of you. I must admit I was a bit put off at first of your suggestion of mapping. I found it a tad ridiculous since we have been with one another many times before. However, looking back on it now it was positively glorious. You took your time removing my clothes and you hung them up with care before you took off your own. I thought you would kiss me but you didn't. You ran your fingertips over my face and whispered, "We're going to learn what you like."_

_When you started touching the top of my head I felt silly but your fingers massaged my scalp and it felt good. From there you moved down my neck and it was then that I understood the point of the exercise. I asked you for a kiss and you said, "Of Course." I asked you to kiss my shoulder and you did! I don't know why but I like it when I am marked by you. It helps me remember that all this is real and not a dream._

_You started from the top of me and worked your way down and we both learned what I liked and what I didn't. I had no clue I was ticklish under my knee and don't you dare tell Timothy! I thought that a kiss to the wrist would make me feel like the character in Trixie's book but I didn't like it and I told you and you stopped. It was dissapointed when you reached my feet but then I realized that I could map you! _

_You seemed confused when I started with your hands so I'll tell you that I have always admired your hands and arms. I would steal glances at them when you had your sleeves rolled up for a delivery or when you had your suit jacket slung over your shoulder. Do you remember when we shared a cigarette? Our hands touched, I remember that clearly. Sometimes when we make love I feel as if I'm drowning and I reach for your arms and I know that you are with me. You always hold me tight and I know I am safe and loved. The way you shivered when I touched your neck is also burned into my memory. I want to use my lips instead of my hands to make you shiver. Would you mind? During my time at Saint Agnes's Sanatorium I learned about my mind since I had all that time to just sit and think. After the other night I know my body and I have an idea about something. _

_ Your lover_

_****_He had already tore through his briefcase just in case he had missed another envelope but he had been thorough in his near destruction of it. An idea! There was no way that he was going to say no to her. He had been taken aback when she whispered in his ear that she wanted to touch him. Her fingers found his old scars and she had asked about them. The memory of her lips kissing the scar on his chest had squirming in his seat. Not wanting to embarrass himself had to force his mind to think of something else, he grabbed the nearest chart and began taking notes.


	4. Chapter 4

Acting out of habit Shelagh moved towards the chapel to gather with the nuns. She realized her mistake yet was waved inside not by Sister Julienne but by Sister Evangelina. Shelagh sat in the congregation row and sang with the nuns. Her voice adding to the richness of the other women. It felt good to sing again, it felt good to be with her sisters again. The rotund nun gave her a wink and Shelagh thought of the last time she had showed her such kindness.

_After she had signed her papers discharging her from the sisterhood she went to her old cell. It was her intent to clear it out, Sister Evangelina had seen her in the doorway._

_"What are you doing?" Evangelina's voice demanded._

_"Sister, I'm clearing out this room so it can be used." Shelagh said a little sheepishly._

_Sister Evangelina cocked her head, "You are a nurse are you not?"_

_"Yes sister" Shelagh muttered._

_"Then this is still your room and as far as we're concerned it will be your room until the day you die."_

_Once again the young woman found herself crying in the arms of her fellow sister. Sister Julienne had been correct Nonnatus would always be a home to her._

After prayers Shelagh went into the common area. Jane was working silently but there was a smile on her face. Shelagh could see an envelope sticking out of one of her pockets. No doubt it was a letter from the Revered Appleby-Thornton. Only his letters made her smile like that. Noticing her Jane straightened and dug into her other pocket, "Letter for you."

"Thank you Jane" Shelagh said thoughtfully. She moved through the kitchen to the side door that led to the garden. She sat in her usual spot and carefully opened the letter.

_My lover,_

_I feel alive in way that I have not felt in sometime. It's as though everything is new again. I often try to think about the wilderness as you described it. For you it was the Sanatorium, you were able to transmute your illness into the will to actually live. Believe it or not for me my wilderness was my car. Even before her death I spent so much time in that car. Always going away from my family in it Then when she died I would sit in the car thinking of all the time I had wasted in it. Then you rang from the sanatorium and I went to the car determined to find you. Timothy was there too hanging out of the window looking for you as the mists rolled in. Then last night I picked you up from Nonnatus and as I parked the car in the darkened drive you pulled me into the back seat. I have never seen anything as exotic as your bare skin on the dark leather of the MG. I found my tie this morning as it had gotten stuck under the drivers seat. I thought I was too old to maneuver in the tiny space of the back but you solved that problem. So graceful, you could have been a ballerina you know. Those slender legs of yours so flexible as you sat astride me. I overheard lads in medical school talking about steamy windows but the other night was the first time I had ever experienced it. _

_I hope I didn't hurt you when I pulled on your hair. I love it when it's down and I love it that you wear it down for me. It falls like a curtain when we make love so it seems that we are the only two in the universe. Having you be in control was one of the erotic things I have ever experienced. Your sighs, your moans and your lustful wail are seared into my mind. I noticed you left the house wearing a higher collared cardigan over your uniform this morning, I couldn't help it when you threw back your head in pleasure, your neck was begging to be marked and I couldn't deny it. The taste of your skin I can't get enough of it. As I pen this message I want you now, I want you beneath me, on top of me, anyway you wish. As I got into that MG with the number plate of BSL-381 I remembered that it has brought me Timothy and it brought me to you. By the way your scent seems to be mingled in with the leather._

_~Your lover_

In the garden Shelagh ran a finger on the collar of her cardigan. She thought she could feel the mark underneath the fabric. Folding up the letter she reverently put it in her pocket. Tonight she would put it with all the others she had kept. Next to her bedside she had framed the picture Timothy had drawn of them, back when she was known as Sister Bernadette. She didn't feel any regret on her past life. In fact she took a moment to praise God for his wisdom in his placing her at Nonnatus House. While mortals might not understand it, God's timing was always perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

Shelagh and Patrick continued to exchange letters and many had started to take notice. While the nurses and nuns respected Shelagh's privacy they were curious and Shelagh was catching on to the sidelong glances and hushed whispers. It was Jane who had the guts to ask.

"Post for you" The orderly announced quietly as she handed over the envelope.

"Thank you kindly Jane" Shelagh said thoughtfully.

Jane opened her mouth if to speak and Shelagh could see the battle waring behind her eyes. Shelagh reached out and touched Jane's hand and lead her to the garden. Shelagh sat down in her spot on the bench and patted the side beside her for Jane to join her. She pushed up her glasses before speaking. "I'm sure everyone wants to know what is in these" Shelagh said with a smile and chuckled inwardly at the faint blush rising in the cheeks of Jane. "You see when Dr. Turner and I first married there were things that we needed to talk about but couldn't. I couldn't find the right words and with our work sometimes there is not the time. We write to one another and sometimes it is about love and other times it is about our day, what made us angry or what we are afraid of. Sometimes it is easier to write out thoughts onto paper then you can see if you are being silly about something."

Jane nodded furiously and she pulled out her own letter from her pocket. "Samuel...Reverend Appleby-Thornton I mean writes to me. Tells me about Africa and I write to him about Poplar. We even play chess by post."

Shelagh felt a swell of pride that Jane would confide in her and they shared a smile. Shelagh rose to go inside and Jane stood quickly to join her, "I won't tell anyone, those letters are your business."

"Thank you Jane" Shelagh said sincerely.

The next day during lunch Shelagh took Jane with her to the small paper shop she had discovered. Jane delighted in finding paper with chess themed letterhead. Happily she bought it and her joy was so infectious that Shelagh bought Jane a quick drying ink pen which the clerk said was ideal for left handed writers. Jane had been so overwhelmed by the gesture that she nearly cried. This reminded Shelagh of the trials that Jane and indeed everyone at Nonnatus had been through. Some of its inhabitants had been tried more sorely by life yet still they were here.

Still riding the wave of camaraderie Shelagh asked Trixie if she could borrow another one of her books. That night she sat in the sitting room of the Turner home while Timothy and Patrick sat at the kitchen table. Patrick was going through his notes while Timothy was working on mathematics. This was a commonplace occurrence yet Patrick did a doubletake. Generally his wife would read the newspaper or even a few pages of her bible yet here she was comfortably sitting reading a romance novel. He was able to catch her eye and he winked at her before returning to his notes.

He found his next letter on the seat of his MG. It was short and to the point only one sentence yet it was like a blow to the gut.

_What have you imagined us doing?_

Patrick swallowed hard, this was something he wanted to shy away from. When he had started this whole business with the letters it was to help Shelagh become more comfortable with herself. Apparently he had succeeded he had not considered that it might bring himself discomfort. In his minds eye he could see his own words _I will do whatever you ask or want to try_. He would not deny her now. He thought back to how comfortable she had been in the sitting room reading a new book not shying away from him. He owed her so much, he looked down at the steering wheel and blushed as he remembered the gift she had bestowed upon him in this very car! He knew that she was stronger than him now he would have to dig deep to be strong for her and he would.

It took a few days before Shelagh got her response. Nurse Franklin had retrieved the post and was making comments about each piece. "Another one from Alec, Jenny!" Nurse Lee reached for the envelope which Trixie held over her head. Eventually the brunette got her letter. "One from Africa and one from the good Doctor" Trixie said in a sing-song voice. Again she held the envelopes high in her right hand above her head but she had forgotten that Jane was left-handed and Trixie had thought the attack would come from her left like Jenny had done. Quickly Jane snatched both letters out of the hands of Trixie before shooting the blonde nurse a look that could peel paint. Cynthia and Jenny had laughed loudly at Trixie being outsmarted by Jane. The orderly handed Shelagh her letter before leaving to sit by her goldfish while Shelagh headed towards the garden.

_My love,_

_ I must apologize for this being late. Your request was a simple one but I was a coward. I have so many fantasies. I will tell you of the one that I find myself daydreaming of the most. I'm at the Maternity home after hours. Patients are no longer here, there is only a few janitorial staff milling around. I am cloistered in that small office with those green walls and battered grey filing cabinets. I get up from my desk and hang up my clinical coat on the coat tree only to find my brown overcoat missing. I don't miss it for long for you are there wearing it. You come close to me and that's when I realize that my overcoat is all that you are wearing. I move towards you and back up before bumping into my desk. You sit on it and I reach up to undo your hair and then I take off the coat. I let it pool around your waist as I kiss you. I push off all the offending paperwork on that desk and fall into your arms. I don't care that there might be others in the building. I have to have you. Your hands are nimble as my jumper, tie and shirt are liberated and litter the floor. The overcoat is like a blanket beneath us as we make love on the desk._

_ Forever thinking of you,_

_Your lover_


	6. Chapter 6

Today had been rough, a slew of patients with problems. The clinic at Nonnatus had been full as always. During a routine exam Nurse Lee had listened for fetal heart tones only to find none. She had went and got Chummy to confirm her findings. Dr. Turner was checking another patient and was summoned for. The mother had been moved from the clinic to the chapel away from prying eyes and screaming children. Sister Julienne was also there. Between the nun and doctor they both told the woman, whose name was Karen, that her child had died.

Sister Julienne was adept at reading people and didn't use words like 'fetus' or 'in utero'. She used a soft tone and simply said, "There were other plans for your child."

Karen nodded then looked at Dr. Turner, "I know all the nurses have checked but are you sure?"

Dr. Turner spoke just as softly as Sister Julienne did, "Yes, an ambulance is coming to take you to hospital and you'll be well taken care of."

Karen drew a breath, "What about Paul? He's at work-"

"We will take care of it, all of it" Sister Julienne said authoritatively.

The women of Nonnatus went back to work and Dr. Turner found himself smoking beside Fred in the back.

"I don't know how you put with it" Fred exclaimed as he took a quick swig of something.

Dr. Turner exhaled a stream of smoke, "You just do. You have to detach yourself from it when you're working or else you would never get anything done. Nevertheless you must feel something. The day you don't is the day you need to stop."

"Have you ever gotten close?" Fred asked as he fidgeted.

"I thought I was done after the death of Timothy's mother. I was angry and sad at the job. I felt it had taken more away from my life than had given but I wasn't looking at it properly. Everything needs perspective."

"I'm just amazed at you do."

"Just takes practice. Likewise, I'm amazed at what you do." Patrick exhaled.

"Oh give over." Fred said annoyed.

Patrick thrust his hand into his pocket and withdrew another cigarette and lit it furiously. "Do you know I envy you? The ease you have at being a scout leader the patience you have with children. I maybe able to tend a wound but I can't make it all better."

"Well like you said, 'just takes practice'" Fred answered with a shrug and the two laughed before heading inside.

The ambulance had taken Karen and Cynthia had managed to find Paul. Soon both would be reunited at hospital to give each other strength. That night Patrick had stripped Shelagh of her clothes before bundling her in bed with him. He needed to feel her against him, letting her skin soothe his wounds. He held her tightly to him and revealed in feeling of her warmth.

Shelagh had been distant for days and the nurses had noticed and gave her a wide berth. She and Patrick had been married for almost a year and yet she had no signs of being pregnant. Her periods had been erratic for a couple of years and some doctors had said it could be due to stress. A few times in her marriage she had thought that she was with child only to need a sanitary napkin days later. Patrick had referred her to a colleague and she had her results a week ago. She was pulled out of her brooding by Chummy, "Letter for you."

_My love,_

_I have spoken to the doctors at Saint Agnes's Sanatorium and from that they have told me 2 out of 10 women affected with tuberculosis have problems bearing children. You have the option of having the triple treatment again but the outcome is not certain. As always I will do whatever you wish. I just need to know what that is._

_love always,_

_Patrick_

Shelagh sighed as she shoved the letter into her pocket. She had only spoken to her patients and colleagues when it concerned a case. She had been silent at meals and reluctant to join in any of the juicy gossip. She knew she was brooding but couldn't be bothered. The kitchen had cleared out and she saw her chance to sneak in and perhaps get a splash of tea. In her haste she knocked off a teacup and it shattered.

The destruction of the porcelain only summoned Jane who quickly grabbed a dustpan and brush. Shelagh held the dustpan steady as Jane swept up the fragments. The two worked in silence, soon the pan was full and Jane went to empty it in a nearby bin.

Jane's voice was soft that at first Shelagh almost didn't hear it, "I don't talk much so I'm good at listening."

In the morning Patrick found an envelope in his clinical coat.

_Patrick my love,_

_I have been horrible this past week. I have been every emotion under the sun except for happy. I've been angry, sad, vengeful even. I never thought I would have a child or for that matter be married. At the Sanatorium when I realized that my life of service was not the best fit for me those things that I thought I would never have began to creep into mind. I couldn't have children of my own in the religious life and now I can't have them in this one. I was bitter with God, did He do this to teach me a lesson? Was this His way of proving a point like with Job? I pushed people away because I wanted to be miserable. I found it in a strange way enjoyable since it was my own misery. I realize now that I was a fool. Jane said something to me yesterday. I was moaning that I would never have children. She merely cocked her head to the side and said, "You have Timothy. He loves you and you him, what more do you need?" I have forgotten all the things I have. I won't make the same mistake. By the way don't bother looking for your overcoat, I have it._

_ Love always,_

_ Shelagh _


	7. Chapter 7

I apologize for any confusion. I hit the complete button by accident, I'm a little goofy after having my gallbladder removed. This story will be continuing.


	8. Chapter 8

Shelagh had taken Patrick's overcoat that morning. She still didn't know if she had the nerve to waltz into his office wearing only that but for the time being the weather was pleasant and the brown coat was not needed. In a few weeks it would be half-term, Patrick and Timothy would be going on a camping trip with the scouts. Shelagh declined to go, she wasn't too keen on camping and she wanted to make sure Timothy had time with his father. She and Timothy had their own moments. Saturday mornings the two would go to a matinee or simply walk the streets of Poplar discussing whatever was on their minds. The two shared a unique bond of having lost their Mother's at a young age and having a Father that worked hard but lacked the 'woman's touch' as it were.

Shelagh had declined to take the triple treatment again. Doctors could not assure her that it would cure her infertility. The treatment itself had side effects, she grimaced as she remembered the rushed trips to the toilet since the antibiotics had killed all the bacteria in her intestines resulting in unrelenting diarrhea. Her life was full already and it was the sin of greed that she had to battle. Passing a window Shelagh saw that shoes would be going on sale and she made a note to make sure she picked up Timothy a new pair. He was growing so fast that she had asked Chummy for lessons on creating patterns.

On Thursday there was a huge influx of births. Sister Monica Joan had proclaimed it was due to the full moon and most in Nonnatus house were in agreement. Shelagh had hoped to go to the stationary shop before it closed to pick up a few more envelopes but with the phone ringing nonstop she couldn't. Jane had just finished sorting instruments and was waiting on the next batch from the autoclave. She said that she could pop-out and purchase the items, she too needed more stationary. Shelagh smiled and handed over a crown.

Sometime later the phone rang again, "nonnatus house midwife speaking" Cynthia answered automatically. Shelagh went to the intake area ready to grab what information was needed when she noticed Cynthia's face.

Shelagh instantly thought of Sister Monica Joan, had she wandered off, had she committed a crime? Her fears were alleviated when she saw the elder nun stroll by a trail of yarn following in her wake. Cynthia hung up the telephone and whispered, "It's Jane."

A group now surrounded Cynthia and the strength in her voice returned. "She was robbed outside a shop. Sergeant Noakes says she's not hurt just frightened. Apparently she did more damage to the thief. Smacked him with that handbag she got for her birthday, he'll have a lovely black eye."

The tension left the shoulders of the others knowing that Jane was all right. A car was going to drop her off after her statement was processed. While Poplar was a tight knit community it still lacked the wealth and glamour of other London areas such as Chelsea or Mayfair. People still did desperate things in the name of survival. Everyone seemed to loiter round the windows and door. When an engine was heard they all rushed out. Jane seemed a little shaken but otherwise unharmed. She cradled her lucite handbag in her arms, a quick look revealed that the strap had broken. Jane seemed more upset about this than being robbed. When she saw Trixie her face crumpled, "I'm so sorry about the handbag, it broke when I swung it."

Trixie gave a little laugh, "I don't care about that, I'll buy you a new one." The orderly was taken in. Sister Evangelina mixed up a special brew before being tucking Jane away in bed. Hours later Patrick found Shelagh in his office. She was wrapped in his coat but the look on her face wasn't filled with any playfulness. Instinctively he knew something was wrong. He stepped forward and embraced her. Through hitching sobs he heard that Jane had been mugged. He ran his hands over her back trying to soothe her. He told her it was not her fault and if she had gone something worse may have happened.

"While Jane is quiet and meek mannered I believe she can take care of herself better than anyone at Nonnatus" Patrick said.

****At this Shelagh laughed and told him that Jane had indeed defended herself with the Lucite handbag. While it was not the fantasy he had in mind, drying his wife's tears in his office while she wore his coat seemed more satisfying. For once he could make it all better.


	9. Chapter 9

Adolescent chatter kept him awake, that and the ground cover digging into his back. Patrick had packed a bedroll but had ended up giving it Fred. He and the rotund leader of the scouts we're sharing a tent. Fred had gone to the land of nod hours ago after the arduous hike into the woods. Still the lads were having a grand time of it. They had long since abandonded the campfire for their tents. Torchlight shone through the fabric and there was muffled laughter and whispered secrets. Patrick knew that he would not be able to sleep so he left the tent and moved towards the fire. He thought about the day, the beginning of the hike when all the boys we're in good moods. This eventually disintegrated when the length of the hike gave way to tears, a turned ankle and then finally to triumph when the campsite was reached. During this trek Timothy's passion for insects shone through, he was able to point out many different things that his Father would have missed. Patrick was truly amazed of the knowledge his son possessed. Butterflies, beetles, buzzing insects all held wonder to Timothy. He rattled off the Latin names and was able to identify which stage each creature was in. Patrick began thinking about which schools would nurture this love entomology.

The spring was slowly giving way to summer and while the fire was not needed for warmth it kept frightfulness of night away. Patrick found the fire illuminating in more ways than one. The flames seemed to tickle the ancient part of his brain. He found contentment in the flames and simple pleasure in tossing in a twig and watching it burn. He couldn't wait anymore he grabbed his pack and removed the letter. Before he had left she had handed him his pack which she had lovingly packed and said, "Have a good time." He took his time lifting up the flap of the envelope. The familiar pink paper greeted him

_My dear love,_

_I am trying to imagine how you are doing? Are you tending the injured, are there many scrapes, bumps, blisters and bruises? Or are all the lads fine and I'm just being a silly goose? I see you in my minds eye in those dark green trousers and khaki shirt in a tent trying to covertly read this letter. I packed a spirit lamp with a small vial of spirits in a biscuit tin in the bottom of the bag if you wished for more light. _

At this Patrick's hand shot out towards his pack and explored it in soft pats before a hollow clang announced he had found the biscuit tin. Leave it to his wife to think of everything. He lovingly tapped the bag again before returning to his letter.

_Perhaps you are not in a tent but lying underneath the stars. When I was young I did that quite a bit. I would go up to our roof, especially after mum died with my stolen Henley and smoke. I would watch the smoke swirl up towards the sky and float towards the heavens. Can you imagine me beside you, us sharing a cigarette together? I know we have done it before but let me tell you what is in my mind._

_We have walked all day into a lovely glen descending further into the glen reveals a stream and we spend so much time enjoying the scenery that we fail to realize that the sun is going down. We decide to spend the night here lest we break an ankle trying to find our way out. You make a fire and have be sit on your brown overcoat. The firelight makes you look young and I rake my hands through your hair to tousle it. You take me in your arms and kiss me, marking my neck and I sigh. You know the one, you always hold me tighter when I make that sound. I can feel your arms around me and I want more. I move to sit in your lap and my legs go 'round your waist. It is you who now throw your head back exposing your throat and I lavish attention on it. I bite you high on your neck so your collar won't be able to hid it and the truth is I know you don't want to hide it. Clothes fly and land in the woods, will they become a home for animals? We don't care, we are in our own world made of pleasure and flesh. The hard wall of your chest meets mine and it is the contrast of hardness and softness that compliments us well. You take down my hair only to grab it in your fists so you can take control and move the attention back to my neck. Your harsh cry is swallowed up by the woods._

_Push and pull, up and down we move together. Can you feel it? I can, I can feel the ache now and it is not from gripping my pen. I want you, I want you to know that. I want you to know that I need you too. I'll be waiting. _

_Shelagh_

"Bloody Hell" Patrick whispered in the night. His body had reacted to the contents of the letter and he took some deep breaths to calm himself. He tucked the letter back into the envelope and placed it back into his pack. He lay down beside the fire and withdrew a cigarette and imagined his wife beside him.


End file.
